A Very Hard Day

Twenty-something odd years ago, we had a Chocolate Labrador Retriever named Judy.  She was a beautiful dog - full of life.  She would run around the farm, chasing rabbits.  It was a favorite pastime of Judy's.  One fall afternoon, we were harvesting in the very last field right next to the shop, ten minutes from being finished.  Judy was doing her thing, chasing rabbits in the field.  As you harvest, the area that the rabbits can hide gets smaller and smaller.

The rabbit saw its chance to run and took it.  Trouble is, Judy ran, too - right into the cutterbar of the combine.  The sharp teeth on the combine cut deep into Judy.  She was cut up - really bad.  She looked up at me with those big yellow eyes, whimpering in pain.  I remember Dad asking me if we could save her.  I shook my head, no.  She was injured very badly and could not be saved.  Reluctantly, I got the gun from the truck and put Judy to rest.  It was a hard thing to do.  We buried her right there in the bottom cut of that field where she had gotten so much joy chasing cottontails.

Why am I telling you this painful story?  Because, sometimes animals we love get hurt.  Animals we get attached to are suffering, and a hard decision has to be made.  Last week I told you that Clarabelle, one of our Jersey cows that we JUST dried off after milking her for a year and three months, got injured.  It was a freak accident.  The two heifers, LuLu and Elsie (Clarabelle's heifer), were horsing around.  One of them was in heat and they were all jumping on each other the way that animals do.  Somehow, one of them jumped on top of Clarabelle and injured her back.

We called the vet out for a farm call.  He looked her over and theorized that Clarabelle had a back injury (slipped disk) or perhaps a pulled muscle.  He gave her a shot and said she may get up later that day or the next morning.  He also prepared us that she might NOT get up.  Clarabelle was on the clock.

Every day following, Tricia and I went out to the pasture where she had fallen and flipped her over, two times a day, to make sure her leg wouldn't go to sleep and give her a different vantage point.  That's not an easy thing to do with a large animal.  It was hot and it rains every day.  Lots of mud and mosquitoes and deer flies.  We'd bring her sweet feed and fresh water, gave her a shot of BoSe, drenches of molasses, and we'd pick fresh sweet potato vines for her to eat from the garden (her favorite).  We'd sit with her and tell her what a good cow she was.

She would try to get up, but her back legs would not work.  It was hot and so we built a tent of sorts out of t-posts and a tarp to keep her cool.  She never stopped eating and drinking water, but she was deteriorating day by day.  The other animals would come visit her under the medical tent.

She would get week and fall sideways, struggling to breathe.  Tricia and I would rush out there in the mud, pushing and pulling on her to get her back upright.  We finally got a bale of hay down from the hayloft and positioned it against her body to keep her propped up.  It became all too apparent that this wasn't going to end well.  She was breathing heavy and groaning.  She was suffering, and I couldn't allow it to go on.

Early Friday afternoon I got my handgun and made a slow, long walk to where she lay.  I didn't even tell Tricia I was going.  Clarabelle had fallen once again and had mud all over her and was panting.  I talked to my girl and told her how sorry I was that it had come to this.  I told her again what a good cow she had been, giving us good heifers and winning many ribbons and plaques for Russ and Benjamin in livestock shows.  She was our family cow and had produced hundreds and hundreds of gallons of milk that nourished our family.  But is was time.  Rest in Peace, Clarabelle.

Three Weeks Later...

Tonight an update on Rosie.  We discussed her terribly tragic torn teat three weeks ago.  It is a painful story to tell.  Our cows loathe summer time.  The sit in the shade and lay in the mud in order to cool themselves.  They only eat in the early morning and late afternoon.  They lose some weight during the dog days of summer.  

Rosie is like a pig.  You can see her below in all her muddy glory.  Well, the best we can figure, after laying in the mud all day, it was time to get up.  She reached her back leg underneath her and lifted herself up.  Except her hoof was on top of her teat.  When she stood up it tore 1/4 of her teat off, exposing the 'meat.'  It didn't help matters that we had just trimmed her hooves so they were sharp.

Now, before you scroll down, I want to warn you: the photo below is graphic!  It shows the injured teat a full 3 weeks after the event.  She doesn't allow LuLu to nurse on that quarter - only the other three quarters.  Each afternoon for 3 weeks now, to prevent mastitis, Tricia and I are engaged in a bit of a rodeo.

We catch Rosie, who is VERY reluctant at this point to come into the barn, and we tie her up, pick off the scab that covers the opening in the teat, lubricate it, and milk out all of the milk, emptying it to prevent infection and save the quarter.  Rosie is not happy with any of this.  She expresses her displeasure vehemently and vociferously.  Once we are finished, we spray the teat with iodine and set her free.

HERE IS THE PHOTO:

I warned you, didn't I?  That makes me feel really bad for the old girl.  Our hope is that it will heal (SOON) and she will allow LuLu to nurse down the injured quarter.  This would eliminate the need for our afternoon routine with Rosie.  Up to this point, however, LuLu is promptly kicked away when she tries to nurse on the hurt teat.  We will keep doing what we're doing and try to learn more fully the virtue of 'patience!'

A Sad Note for a Baby Goat

Annie has been being real motherly with her triplets.  She watches over them and takes care of them.  The barnyard is full of activity with all the animals on our small acreage.  We have 100 laying hens.  three milk cows, three bulls, one billy goat, two mama goats with 5 total kids.  At feeding time, it is quite a circus to keep everyone separated from the others' food and to keep the cows from stepping on the goats or the chickens.  We always have a hen or two that is walking with a limp due to being stepped on.

Tragedy strikes!

Several evenings ago Tricia fed Annie in the pasture.  Her triplets, that were less than a week old, were gathered around her as she ate from her trough.  When Luna (one of our Jersey cows) finished her feed, I walked her out of the barn, through the corral and into the pasture.  Big mistake!  Luna is quite gluttonous and ran straight for Annie's feed.  Fortunately, I was right there and caught her before she could gobble down the goat's food.  I walked Luna farther out in the pasture and held her.

After a time, I looked and noticed that Annie had finished her food, and I let Luna go.  Luna ran to the trough to see if there was any food left.  Annie's triplets were sitting in a group in the shade next to the barn.  Everything seemed to go in slow motion.  Tragically, instead of running to the food trough, Luna detoured and ran up to the barn, directly to the triplets and right through them.  They are too young to know to get out of the way of the large (not-so-smart) cows.

I watched in horror as Luna stepped right on top of one of the babies' backs.  Luna is not a big cow, but she still probably weighs 750 pounds.  The baby goat weighs less than 7 pounds.  The baby goat cried and cried and cried.

Tricia now looks back and tells us that what happened next shows the difference between boys and girls.  Tricia immediately ran to the baby goat, picked it up, and began nurturing it, and showing it compassion.  In contrast, I ran immediately to Luna and punched her.  (I know, not kind, right?) Russ picked up a dirt clod and threw it at Luna. We were angry and impatient with Luna's decision to do that to a defenseless animal.  Ironically, we weren't so kind to Luna, who is also a defenseless animal.

The baby goat that was injured was the doeling, the other two are bucklings.  Things did not look good.  She could not use or move her back legs.  Her hooves turned backwards and she could not stand on them.  We were just heartbroken.  I figured we would put her down, but Tricia wanted to wait through the weekend so "she could work with her."

Status Update and Prognosis:

The doeling (we need to name her, I guess) is nursing on her mom while laying down, unable to use her back legs.

Having her nurse requires putting her two brothers in a cage as she is lame and can't compete with her rambunctious siblings for her mama's milk.  They knock her over.

It is just real sad as she sits on essentially useless back legs.

A silver lining

Tricia has been performing physical therapy on the baby.  In Tricia's rehab center, the patient has shown some improvement!  Each day she is making strides.  She can now get up and stand on her own.  Although one leg looks lame and she just drags it, it appears that she is just beginning to try to take some first steps.

She has a LONG way to go and we still don't know the full extent of her injuries or prognosis, but it looks like we won't need to put her down.  Here is Tricia with the patient.  Tricia has patience and nurturing abilities that I just don't have.

Tonight we walked into the barn and the little crippled goat had gotten up on her own.  That's progress!  Tricia put her siblings in the cage and let the little goat nurse on Annie.  She drank milk while standing on wobbly injured legs.

We're seeing small improvement every day and we'll just have to wait a bit and see how things turn out.  We've learned a lesson through this, though.  We always talk about how it is good to have a variety of animals on the pasture.  Chickens eat what cows don't eat.  Goats eat what cows don't eat.  All eat grass and poop to fertilize the grass, which, in turn, grows more grass.  It is a beautiful cycle that God created.  It does, however, require some management as cows don't have much regard for their smaller brethren.  As the goats get older, they learn to stay out of the cows' way.  We learned from now on to keep the babies away from the cows until they get their 'street smarts.'  We'll keep you posted on our patient.